


kiss me on the mouth and set me free

by fiddleogold_againstyoursoul



Series: bite (black and) blue [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8043223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddleogold_againstyoursoul/pseuds/fiddleogold_againstyoursoul
Summary: Fucking Steve is a religious experience. Being fucked by Bucky is like dying and going to heaven.





	kiss me on the mouth and set me free

* * *

The first time they kiss is more impulse than rationality. Teeth crash into the other set, noses bump so hard they would hurt if Steve and Bucky weren't both so caught up by the moment they can't even stop to breathe. Steve smells like lysol soap and the lavender bedsheets. Bucky smells like cheap alcohol and bad decisions. They kiss, hungrily and sloppily, like animals fighting for water over a pool so small it can only feed one, hands searching, feeling for something solid, something they both can hold onto and never let go.

If either of them find it, they don't say. Steve wakes up to an empty bed, crumpled bedsheets and a lingering sensation of horror. Bucky's long gone into the streets, searching for a dame to convince himself that he's 

(completely normal I like girls I want to kiss them I like the curve of their breasts I like how soft their lips are and how small their hands are)

not just made the worst decision of his life, and that says a lot.

It blows over soon enough. Bucky kisses girls, and boys, both. Steve kisses...well, no one. He paints, and his paintings are furious, bright streaks of colour over an empty canvass that make masses flock to see. He sells them off without revealing his own name, and there is nothing but a murmur about the Angry Artist and what, what it must be that makes him

(so angry so passionate so fucking furious I could paint like this for years and years and Bucky would still go on kissin' girls and I'm stupid you know what I should tell him but no, I'm never gonna and I'm so fucking mad at myself)

paint in a way that captures the attention of audiences so well.

Sometimes when Bucky's drunk he'll laugh in that funny, far-out way and recount the experience.

_Jesus, Stevie, you were such a nervous virgin and -_

_(and I loved you I loved you I loved you goddamn I loved you like I was a fish fighting to breathe out of water and I loved you and every sound you made)_

_\- and so fuckin' shy and you tore me apart, Stevie, you tore me the fuck apart_

Steve cries when he does, and so does Bucky. They end up bundling into bed together, spooning to retain the warmth the broken heater doesn't provide, each trying to breathe in as much of each other as they can. But in the morning Bucky's always gone, because that's just how it is. 

_That's the way it is, there's nothing I can do,_

_That's just the way it is._

 

* * *

 

They first fuck on Steve's twentieth, and it's an explosion of emotions that neither knows how to process.

There is anger, there, Steve grabbing onto Bucky as the latter fucks into him so hard it bruises; Bucky biting and kissing so hard he thinks he can taste blood - whether it be his or Steve's - in his mouth when he makes love.

There is also sadness, Steve crying the morning after when he wakes up to empty bedsheets as usual and then choking on his tears when Bucky comes back into the room half-dressed, hair moussed and confused as to why he's crying; Bucky wondering why Steve fits so perfectly in his arms when they spoon and how he keeps pushing himself to grow taller, stronger, be able to hold Steve closer and tighter till they both can be breathing in each other's scent.

There is a lot of confusion. New sleeping positions - Bucky's a blanket kicker, and Steve sneezes without one. And Steve and Bucky both love being little spoon. And sometimes Steve cries because he can smell perfume on Bucky's shirts or see lipstick on collars turned up and away from his sight and sometimes Bucky cries, too, because he never meant to make Stevie cry, his Stevie.

But there is also love, gentle kissing and fucking and slow dancing to Stevie Wonder and Madonna and shoving under umbrellas in the rain. And there is holding hands and hugging - Steve finds he loves hugging, being hugged and being close to Bucky in general - and there is laughter and tears and everything in between.

Sure, sometimes he still wakes up to empty sheets, and sometimes Bucky doesn't understand why Steve starts ripping his drawings apart, but hey, that's just how it is.

_That's the way it is, there's nothing I can do,_

_That's just the way it is._

 

* * *

 

'Kiss me,' Steve says one time, and Bucky does after he finds the ability to move again.

There's flour on Steve's nose: he was preparing bread, or something like that. He's wearing a frilly little apron that Bucky simply  _tears_ off of him, and when he sees what's underneath he's hard within the fraction of a millisecond. 

Steve is wearing fuckin' panties, pink lacy ones that are so tight it's fucking indecent, hugging his cock and balls and skinny ass so well it should be illegal. As if that's not enough, there are bows on them, little red ribbons that are a huge factor in Bucky's decision to first toy the shit out of Steve while refusing to remove his undergarments and then fuck him senseless.

Steve moans when Bucky's mouth finds the inside of his thigh, kisses lightly all around it, and tries to buck into the touch, but Bucky grips his waist, nips at his hip and twirls the tip of his finger around Steve's tight little hole, and he quickly breaks into another breathy gasp. He rains feathery kisses all around Steve's lower body, pausing to peck at his lips till Steve's delirious with want, so hard it looks like it hurts. And still Bucky holds back, licks stripes over Steve's thighs, till the latter is shaking and whining his name like he's a fucking religion, and fuck, does that make his erection threaten to shoot off.

'Buck - Bucky, please - Bucky - mm, I can't -' 

'Tell me what you want, babydoll,' Bucky growls, fingers hooking into the panties, and Steve sobs.

'I want you, Bucky - Buck - I need - I need you inside of me -  _please, Bucky, please -'_

Bucky wastes no time in stripping the skimpy things off and baring Steve's straining cock and tight little hole. He bites his lower lip as he takes in the sight - Stevie on his knees, lacy panties at his ankles and cock in his hand and trembling - and moves forward, seizing control in an instant.

'Bend over, don't touch yourself till I say so, and don't come.'

'Bucky -'

He yanks on Steve's hair for good measure and the latter quietens, takes his hands off his cock and fists them in the bedsheets. He's still shaking, and Bucky leans over to press a kiss to the small of his back.

'Tell me when to stop,' He whispers, and Steve fucking whines, throws his head back and rocks like a bitch in heat. 

Bucky snatches the blond up and puts him over his knee and spanks, and there's a choked sound of pleasure bubbling up from inside Steve's throat, lost somewhere in a tangle of  _fuck_ and  _oh my God, Bucky._ He does it again, swallowing away his own arousal as he does, till Steve's ass is a pretty shade of pink, and Steve's fingers are trembling where they're lying limp on the bedsheets. Then only does he reach for the bottle of lubricant and spreads it generously over his fingers.

'You're so good for me, Stevie, so good, babydoll. So good and tight, too.' He croons as he works the first finger into Steve, and is rewarded by an absolutely delicious sound of uncoherency. 'I'll take care of you, sweetheart, my baby, my best girl, I'll touch you till you can feel nothing and no one else but me.'

Steve makes a choked noise of pleasure in his throat again.

_'Fuck, Bucky -'_

Bucky twists the fingers inside of Steve and the latter screams, pounds his fists against the bedsheets uselessly. 'Please, Bucky, please - I've been good, Bucky - please -'

'Don't come,' Bucky warns again, and Steve arches up to meet him.

Fucking Steve is a religious experience. Being fucked by Bucky is like dying and going to heaven. Steve screams and bucks and his hands shake as he puts them anywhere but his aching, leaking cock: he's so hard he could come from Bucky's thrusts alone. The pumps are fluid, heavy and fast; Steve fists the bedsheets so hard he thinks he'll rip them. His ass still smarts from the spankings, and his hole is getting fucked into oblivion - how the fuck does Bucky manage to hit his prostrate almost every fucking thrust? He sobs as the thrusts get harder and harder -

\- and then Bucky comes, and it's heavy and warm and wet in his ass and it takes every fibre of his being not to come with him.

'Buck -'

'I know, babydoll, I'm getting there.' 

He pulls out, dripping. Steve buries his head in the sheets and tries to stay cool. Thinks of anything other than coming, but all the blood supposed to be in his head is rushing to his cock and he can focus on nothing else than Bucky's movements around him, Bucky touching his hole and using his thumb to push in all the come that dripped out when he pulled out. Steve whines, and Bucky pays him no mind. A stiff, hard object is pushed into his hole, sealing the come away for later use.

'You look so pretty right now, sweetheart. All dolled up and mine.'

He whimpers when Bucky lays a hand on his back, presses another feathery kiss to the nape of his neck. 

'I bet you're so hard right now you could come to the sound of my voice,' He breathes, and Steve shivers. 'Show me, babydoll, show me how much you liked my cock in you. Did I fill your tight little hole up real good? Did I fuck you like you wanted me to, darlin'? Don't touch yourself just yet, just listen. You looked like a fucking twink in those panties, babydoll. I could have taken a bite out of that cherry red ass, I could've. Maybe I'll eat you out later, see if you like that. Come for me, baby? Come for me, come to the sound of my voice.'

'Oh - Bucky -'

'Shh, babydoll. That apron was fuckin' scandalising, you know. The neighbours would have a fit. I wanted to fuck you till you couldn't speak, sweetheart, till you were feeling it for weeks and weeks after. Come on, baby, come for me. Just -'

Steve moans, shudders and comes. 

His cock lies twitching against the bedsheets. Bucky turns him over and kisses him, and they lie there breathing in unison, smelling of sex and cigarette smoke and Steve's lysol soap as always. 'God fucking damn your lace panties, Rogers,' Bucky breathes, nipping at his lower lip, and Steve closes his eyes.

This feels like home.

 

* * *

 

'You'll be the fucking death of me,' Bucky says as Steve writhes on the bed, vibrator whirring inside his tight little hole. His face is scrunched up in an expression of pleasure and restraint, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing Bucky's seen since Steve in lingerie. 

'Yeah - well -' Steve huffs and his hips roll, 'At least - it'll be a good death - right?'

Bucky kisses him silly, and then he yanks the vibrator out and fucks him to delirium. Steve is facedown on the bed when Bucky begins spreading his cheeks again, gently and slowly, and he whines from overstimulation.

'Buck - I don't think I -'

'Tell me when to stop,' Bucky says as always, and then Steve's finding a warm, wet tongue in his ass and he's finding it very hard not to scream. He bucks and twists, already sensitive cock giving feeble little twitches, and Bucky - the fucking tease - swirls his tongue around more, is rewarded by a shriek that fades into a half-moan of pleasure. He's already come twice in the half hour, and Bucky knows that, but as expert hands start stroking at Steve's cock, giving it a few languid pumps, he finds it slowly hardening once more, and how sensitive it is after being pleasured for so long makes his entire body shake.

'Bucky, Buck, I - mm,' He throws his head back when Bucky's arms snake around his thighs, pull Steve's ass closer to his mouth - his fucking mouth - and then there's the tongue again, doing its treacherously wonderful thing that makes Steve's head swim. 'Mm - mm - Buck, I -  _mm -'_

He only manages a small squirt of come, barely enough to coat the inside of Bucky's palm, but he licks it up anyway. 

'You'll be the death of me,' Steve says, and his heart aches when Bucky laughs and presses his wonderful, terrible mouth to his.

 

* * *

 

They both say "I love you" at the same time, eyes meeting as they lie breathless on Natasha's couch - it's a new one and she's going to have their heads - and Bucky is the first to break the silence: laughs till he's fucking shaking and reaches out, and Steve lets himself be pulled closer. They kiss, again and again, like it's their first time and their last, and it's beautiful and terrible and their hearts are so full it's aching to even touch the other.

Bucky opens his mouth and says

(I fucking love you so much Steve Rogers you're so fucking good to me I'm ruining you I love you you're ruining me I love you so much it physically hurts I'll never find another person like you my strong sweet baby boy always so good for me good to me I love you I love you I love)

'You don't understand how much I love you"

and Steve says in return

(oh but I'd be fucked if I didn't know you, James Buchanan Barnes, you kiss me and it feels like time slows and when we fuck it feels like there's never been a concept of time at all and I love)

'God, Bucky, fuck if I understand how much  _I_ love you.'

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun to write, whew.


End file.
